Time Enough for Love
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: Neverland's unofficial motto: what's the point of faith if it's never tested? A near drowning and a mysterious illness will push a family's faith and hope to the limit.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Time Enough for Love  
**Summary: **Neverland's unofficial motto: what's the point of faith if it's never tested? A near drowning and a mysterious illness will push a family's faith and hope to the limit.  
**Spoilers:** Set post-2x22, "And Straight On 'Til Morning."  
**Rating/Warning: **T, for language, mostly. Here be danger and angst and the obligatory Charming Family moments.  
**Disclaimer:** _Once Upon a Time_ and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox.  
**Author's Note:** You may not believe it, but I swear to you that I had the idea for this little adventure-in-Neverland piece long before the premiere promo pics came out. Shoutout to crowned tiger, who can not only corroborate my story but also pretty much dragged the entire plot outline for this out of me on the promise of virtual cookie dough. ;) Feedback makes my little day. Enjoy!

* * *

Emma Swan had thought that getting off the damn ship and stepping onto sweet, dry, steady land would lead to cooler heads among the ragtag team that made up their rescue squad. Emma Swan had never been more wrong in her entire life.

"Tell me again why _you're_ the one going with _my_ daughter?" Prince Charming seethed at Captain Hook.

Which was a sight Emma would never have imagined that she would see, by the way. If anyone had told her a couple years ago that one day she would be watching Prince Charming threaten Captain Hook with nothing more than his presence, she would have laughed in that person's face. And yet here she was, watching Prince Charming threaten Captain Hook with nothing more than his presence.

Of course, the fact that they were, fundamentally, fighting over her was enough to send her anger level through the stratosphere. She had to keep reminding herself that David's agitation was coming from a fierce desire to protect her. And on some level, she appreciated it; honestly, she did. There was a little girl somewhere inside her that was thrilled to pieces to have her daddy come to her rescue. Unfortunately, that little girl's desires were frequently overruled by the independent adult who did not need _anyone_ to come to her rescue, thank you very much.

If the insanely long trip to the island had taught her anything, though, it was to keep her mouth shut. The countless confrontations between the two of them on the _Jolly Roger_ – usually because Hook had directed innuendo at Emma or because David didn't like the way Hook had looked at her – had taught her that there was no arguing with them. All arguing did was make Emma angry, too.

"I'm going with _your_ daughter because there is no better person to go with her, mate," Hook shot back, a smirk on his lips.

Emma knew that smirk. That was his I'm-right-and-you-know-it smirk. She _hated_ that smirk.

"I know this island," Hook continued smugly. "If anyone can keep your precious little girl safe, I can."

All right, that was the absolute last straw. "Hey!" Emma hollered, giving Hook her best death glare. "That _precious little girl_ is a grown woman, and she's standing right here. I am more than capable of keeping myself safe. My kid is out there somewhere and we're wasting time."

She spun on her heel in the direction of the Neverland jungle. Yeah, she was antsy. Sue her. They'd finally reached land after being on the open ocean for … she didn't know how much time, exactly, but it was far too long. Time moved differently here. The nights felt as if they lasted forever and entire days would pass by in what felt like a couple of hours. It was disorienting, and Emma didn't like it in the slightest.

Also disorienting was the palpable magic surrounding them. It made the air heavy, like a humid summer day. The self-destruct in the mines had been sucking the magic from Storybrooke, leaving the air too thin, as if not enough to fill Emma's lungs. The air here was the exact opposite, too thick to breathe.

It took her a moment to get used to the steady horizon and the firm land underneath her feet as she stomped off towards the trees. Her sea legs had taken a while to find; she certainly hoped it wouldn't take as long to lose them.

"Swan, wait," Hook called after her.

She stopped but only because she could hear her parents calling for her, too. She didn't turn around, though, not until a cold metal hook caught her around the wrist. She whirled on her heel, ripping her arm from the pirate's grip and glaring at him.

"I know you're anxious, darling, but we need to be smart and stay safe," he said, his tone brooking no dissent. Not for the first time, Emma caught a glimpse of the pirate captain charged with keeping his men safe that he truly was.

She still kind of hated him, though.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, he's right," David said, approaching her carefully as if afraid of spooking her and sending her running off into the trees. "I know that the only thing on your mind is getting Henry back. We will find him, Emma, and that little boy will be devastated if you're hurt or worse when we do."

That cooled the steam pouring from Emma's ears a bit. It was Snow who brought her back down to earth completely when she stepped up to her and slipped her hands into Emma's. "Promise me you'll stay with him, Emma."

Though the independent adult still resented her parents treating the situation as if Hook were her damn chaperone, she couldn't deny how much the parental concern radiating from both Snow and David touched her. If she had to send Henry off with someone she didn't trust as far as she could throw, she would probably be threatening that person just as much as David was threatening Hook and begging Henry to be careful just as much as Snow was begging her.

_It's not just me anymore_, she realized with a sudden jolt. She had people who cared about her now – people who loved her – and she owed it to them to be careful, be safe, and to come back to them in one piece. "I promise," she said after a beat, squeezing Snow's hands.

Snow squeezed Emma's hands back, smiling in relief.

"You take good care of her, pirate," David said, his eyes full of warning.

"I'll guard her life as if it were my own, Your Majesty," Hook promised, giving David a curt little nod.

And all of a sudden, Emma was annoyed again. "Can we just go, please?" she huffed, rolling her eyes.

* * *

After all his years spent in this godsforsaken realm, Hook had grown accustomed to how time moved in Neverland. As such, he could say with utmost certainty that he and Swan had been wandering through the overgrown jungle for hours now and had found no sign of life whatsoever.

No sign of human life, that is. There had been one close call with a flowering plant that shot poisonous barbs when touched. Swan had touched it. Mistakenly, of course; she'd tripped over an exposed tree root and latched on to the closest thing to her to keep herself upright. It just so happened that the closest thing to her was the plant's thick stalk. Only Hook's swift thinking as he yanked her out of the line of fire saved her from a direct shot to the neck.

He certainly wouldn't have wanted to explain _that_ one to the prince and princess.

All he got for his troubles was her wrenching her hand from his and a mumbled thank you. Still, a thank you from Swan was practically fawning, so he accepted it graciously. By which he of course told her to keep her hands off the plant life from now on.

Not a word had been said between them since then. The more time passed with no sign of her lad, the more irritable Swan was becoming. More irritable than was typical for her, which was saying something. If there was one thing Hook did not need, it was an unconscionably irritable Emma Swan accompanying him on this trek through the jungle.

However, short of telling her to buck up, which she wouldn't appreciate anyway, he didn't know what to do. He could hear her discouragement in her footsteps, the way she dragged her feet along the ground as if picking them up required more energy than she could expend.

At long last, she spoke. "Do you have your flask on you?" Her voice was soft, weary, and utterly hopeless.

He winced. "Rum is not what you need, love," he non-answered as he sliced his sword through a vine hanging across the path.

"I don't want the rum," she grumbled. "I'm thirsty. My canteen is empty."

Hook shut his eyes in exasperation. "You were supposed to ration your water."

"Sue me for being thirsty. It's worse than the middle of the damn summer out here."

Sighing, Hook handed over his flask. "Just a sip, though, love." A wicked thought ran through his head, and he smirked. Dare he tempt fate? Ah, why not? She was already irritable. Worst that could happen was she would be more so. "I do intend on getting you drunk, darling, but not until after we collect your lad."

The look on her face was more than comical. She practically choked on her swig of rum and shoved the flask back into his hand. "In your dreams, pirate."

That one was far too easy. As such, Hook uncharacteristically let the moment pass without further comment.

He listened to her footsteps as she trudged along after him in silence. They were wearier now, growing heavier with each passing minute. Finding no sign of her Henry or the people who had grabbed him had taken the wind out of her sails, as it were. Her hope, tenuous to begin with, was dwindling.

"I thought you knew your way around this damn island," she grumbled a few minutes later. "I feel like we're walking around in circles."

"I do know my way around this island," he replied calmly, "and making you believe you're walking around in circles is one of Neverland's tricks."

She groaned, at which point he decided not to push it. Neverland had its fair share of tricks and teases, and similar and even changing terrain was one of them.

Truth be told, though, he was leading her in a circle. It was quite obvious there were no Lost Ones here, no Henry, and no Greg and Tamara, so he was taking her back to the _Roger_ to refill their rations. Rum wouldn't quench her thirst for very long, and he would rather not have her taking off on her own to find some fresh drinking water. Also, she might be less irritable if she got some food into her system. He'd suddenly remembered from his travels with her in the Enchanted Forest how grouchy she could become when she was hungry.

"Wait!" Swan hissed from behind him. "Do you hear that?"

Hook hadn't heard a single thing, and although he'd wanted to hear a hint of hope return to her voice, he didn't like the hint that was there now. "I don't hear anything, Swan."

"It's faint but ..." She stopped walking, staring off to the side as she tried to discern from which direction the nonexistent sound was coming. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and Hook softened, knowing exactly what was happening. "I can't tell where it's coming from. It sounds like it's coming from all over."

"It's not coming from anywhere," he told her gently. "That's another of Neverland's tricks, love: making you hear what you want to hear."

"No, I hear him! I just can't figure out–"

"No, you don't, Swan." He stepped in front of her and rested his good hand on her shoulder, trying to recapture her attention. "Emma, look at me. You don't hear him."

The use of her first name finally managed to reach her. She blinked as she met his gaze. He watched the hope go right out of eyes as reality sank in; she _hadn't_ heard her lad calling for her. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked utterly defeated. "Come on, love," he said softly, giving her shoulder a light squeeze.

She didn't argue.

Hook almost wished she had. He was used to her being feisty and fiery. He knew how to handle feisty and fiery. He didn't quite know what to do with a hopeless Emma Swan.

They trudged onward. Though concerned for her, Hook had to be content to simply listen for her footsteps behind him. She would have taken offense to his constantly glancing over his shoulder to check on her.

He expected an argument when they emerged from the trees back at the beach where the _Roger_ was anchored, but he didn't get one. Still, he thought he might as well explain what they were doing back here before it could degenerate into an argument. "We just need to get you some rations, Swan," he said over his shoulder. "Then we'll resume the search for your boy."

There was no answer, and Hook finally realized that it was far too quiet. It hadn't registered at first because they'd been walking through sand, but he could no longer hear her behind him. He spun around and saw her standing in the water up to her ankles. She was walking in deeper and deeper, her arms down by her sides. The wind was whipping her hair across her face, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Swan, stop!" he hollered out to her. No response. "Emma! Whatever you're hearing or seeing, it's not real!"

She gave no indication that she'd heard him, and she probably hadn't. Whatever had her attention had it completely.

She was up to her waist now. Hook hurried after her, ready to grab her and bring her back to safety, but he hadn't taken more than a step into the water when something he couldn't see knocked her off her feet and dragged her under the waves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Once again, you all rock. Thank you so much for all the reviews and follows and favorites! We're in for some bumpy seas here, guys; I hope you enjoy the next part! (Also, tomorrow! Eeee!)

* * *

Hook reached the spot Emma had been standing when she went under in less than ten seconds, but she was already gone. Between the undertow and the creatures that called these waters home, she could have been dragged a hundred feet away by now. He muttered a curse that would have made her proud before diving into the waves.

Salt and sand burned his eyes as he peered through the murky water. There was no sign of her anywhere. No bubbles, no sign of a struggle, nothing. He stayed under as long as he could, swimming out further and further. Eventually, the burning in his lungs became too strong and he had to come up for air.

_Maybe she's surfaced_, he thought as he greedily took in large gulps of air. One swift looked around, however, proved that hope false. Damnation, she'd been under longer than he had. "Dammit, Swan," he cursed before diving back underwater.

Just like before, there was no sign of her. Another string of curses ran through his head. Where the hell had she gone? His vision was starting to blur even further, his eyes burning and gritty from the salt water and the effort. Just when he thought he was going to have to go up for another breath of air, his fingers tangled in a clump of seaweed.

No, not seaweed, he realized a second later. Hair. Swan's hair.

In less than a second, he'd wrapped his arm around her waist and was hugging her to him. It was only when he tried to push her to the surface that he realized _something_ had a tight hold on her ankle. Using the last ounce of his strength, Hook gave the creature a hard kick. The grip on Swan's ankle loosened immediately, and Hook shoved her to the surface.

He emerged from the water himself a moment later, gasping and spluttering. He thought he could hear a voice calling his name, but before he had the chance to register whose voice it was, the prince was beside him. "What the hell happened?!" David cried as he helped Hook bring an unconscious Emma to shore.

"Mermaid, siren, take your pick," Hook replied, still panting from a combination of his underwater search and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "I dove in as soon as I saw her go under but whatever had hold of her dragged her away too swiftly."

And it had dragged her far, farther than Hook had originally thought. It took him a moment to recognize the figure standing on shore, hollering to them even though they couldn't hear her, as the princess. The second he could touch bottom, David gathered his daughter in his arms and carried her bridal-style to the beach, where Snow was frantically waiting.

David dropped to his knees and gently lay his unconscious daughter down on the sand. Snow knelt by her side in a fraction of a second, hysterically calling her name. "Charming, she's not breathing!" she cried, already repositioning herself to begin chest compressions.

Hook stood in the surf, watching helplessly as the princess counted off chest compressions. The prince tipped Swan's head back, lifting her chin to open her airway and breathed into her mouth when Snow told him to do so. They worked in concert, Snow pumping their daughter's heart and David providing her breath until, at long last, a gurgling sound came up from Emma's throat.

"That's it, baby," Snow murmured, cautious relief lighting her eyes. "Breathe, sweetheart, breathe."

And then Hook heard the sweetest sound he would probably ever hear: Emma's sputtering cough. Snow quickly repositioned herself, kneeling behind Emma to sit her up slightly so she wouldn't aspirate on the seawater that was currently pouring from her mouth. Hook released his breath as Emma raggedly drew in hers, filling her lungs with sweet, fresh oxygen.

She coughed and wheezed until she'd gotten all the ocean water out of her lungs. And then, struggling to sit up and still panting heavily, she rasped, "What … the hell?"

Hook dropped to his knees in the sand, relief washing over him like a wave. She was back. She'd scared the hell out of everyone, but she was most definitely back, feisty as ever. The prince and princess laughed, intense relief mingling with their amusement, as they wrapped their poor, confused daughter in tight embraces.

"Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again," Snow sternly murmured into her daughter's dripping hair. Though clearly still bewildered, Emma reached up and weakly gripped her mother's arm as an apology.

The four of them sat in silence until Emma's ragged and heavy breaths slowed to normal. The prince and the princess continued to hold her tightly; Snow had even begun rhythmically running the side of her thumb along Emma's cheek. "Shit," Emma muttered, pressing a trembling hand to her sternum. "My chest freakin' _hurts_."

"Almost drowning will do that to you, love," Hook said softly. Upon seeing her start to shiver despite the humidity in the air, he grabbed the leather coat he'd shed before diving into the water after her and draped it over her legs. What she really needed was to get out of her wet clothes, but the extra layer would help until then.

Her perplexed eyes met his, and he watched as light dawned. She'd almost drowned; that explained not only the pain in her chest but also the fact that her parents had yet to release their death grip on her. "Did you get me out of the water?" she asked him, suddenly realizing that he was soaked to the bone as well.

"Your father and I," he answered, giving a nod to the prince, who was pressing a kiss against the side of his daughter's head. "Your mother and father were the ones who got you breathing again."

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes closing against the tight, comforting hold her parents had on her.

Silence settled over the group again as they all let their adrenaline levels return to an even keel. Eventually, Emma seemed to realize that her parents were essentially cradling her in their arms and tried to sit upright. In response, the prince and princess loosened their hold on her, allowing her freedom of movement.

"Emma, what happened?" David asked. He seemed to be unable to keep himself from touching her, as if physical contact would reassure him that she was all right. He'd begun rubbing soft circles on her back.

"I … don't really remember," Emma answered, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall what she'd been doing before she woke on the beach. "I think … a voice was calling to me, promising to take me to Henry if I followed it. I didn't want to follow it because something felt ... off, but it was like I couldn't help it."

David and Snow exchanged a glance with the Neverland expert over Emma's head. Hook gave a slight shake of his own head, answering their silent question. There was no magical creature in this land who could have taken her to her son. Whatever had tricked her, it had done so because it had wanted _her_.

When Emma's teeth began to chatter, Snow cupped her daughter's cheek one final time before preparing to stand. "Let's get you dried off, hmm? Can you stand up?"

Emma nodded and gathered Hook's jacket in her hands as her parents helped her to her feet. She wordlessly handed the slightly wet garment back to him, her head ducked in embarrassment. With the severity of the situation behind them now, she was beginning to feel chagrined over the scene she'd made and the worry she'd caused. Out of consideration for her near-death experience, Hook decided to give her a break and accepted the jacket without a single innuendo.

Which pained him greatly, by the way.

Snow began leading her daughter towards the _Jolly Roger_, fussing over her as they walked. Emma allowed the attention for all of ten seconds before pushing her mother's hand away from her face with a half-embarrassed, half-annoyed, "Seriously, I'm okay." Only then did Hook relax completely.

The tension in the prince's shoulders relaxed as well. He let out a heavy breath and turned to face Hook. The look in his eyes was inscrutable, and Hook braced himself for what Swan had once delightfully referred to as an ass-chewing. (She'd had to explain that term in great, flustered detail while telling him to get his mind out of the damn gutter for once in his miserable life when Hook had waggled his eyebrows at her the first time he'd ever heard her say it.)

It never came. Instead, David gave him a weary but grateful smile. "Thank you for getting her out of the water."

Well. Would wonders never cease. "You're welcome, mate."

* * *

Apparently, a near drowning took a lot out of a person. By the time Emma set foot on the deck of the _Jolly Roger_, she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Of course, in typical Emma fashion, she kept insisting that she was perfectly fine and that all she wanted to do was change her clothes before resuming the search for Henry.

A mother knew her child, however, and Snow knew that continuing the search was not on the agenda for Emma today. Still, she made reassuring noises to her daughter, telling her that of course she could go back out and search after she changed.

"She needs to sleep," Hook murmured into Snow's ear. Snow gave a quick nod to let him know that she'd heard him and that she understood. She knew her baby needed to sleep; the hard part was getting her to agree.

Despite Hook's attempt to be quiet, Emma must have heard him anyway. "What I need is some dry clothes," she grumbled.

"Take her to my cabin," Hook suggested.

Emma groaned. "Seriously, do you ever stop?"

A corner of the pirate's mouth twitched up in a tiny smirk. Despite the nature of the conversation, Snow hid a smile of her own. Emma's fight was coming back. "It'll be more comfortable for you in there than in your quarters, lass. That's all I meant by the suggestion, though your mind was clearly elsewhere."

The comment earned an eye-roll from Emma and a grumble from Charming. "Don't push your luck, pirate," he muttered. Grinning devilishly, Hook raised his good hand in mock surrender.

Snow decided to take the pirate up on his offer and followed him to the captain's quarters. Any other day, she would have taken the time to examine the maps and bottles and ledgers strewn about the comfortable little room. Today, though, her focus was solely on her baby girl.

Hook strode to a trunk in the far corner of the room and pulled out a long nightshirt that was once probably white but had slightly yellowed over the years. Emma still had the presence of mind to arch a single eyebrow at him, ready to protest wearing a nightshirt of his that was who knew how old. "Dry clothes, darling," he shrugged, stopping her argument before she could get out even one word of it. "I apologize for the lack of those tight denim pants you favor."

Snow took the proffered garment from him before Emma – or David – could say a single thing. "Thank you, Hook. We can take it from here."

"Of course," the pirate said. He crossed the room to the door. "I'm glad you're all right, Swan." Then, after giving them all a nod, he left the cabin and pulled the door closed behind him.

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence before Emma slipped the nightshirt from her mother's hand and said, "I, um, can change myself."

"Oh, right, of course you can," Snow said quickly. She nudged her husband and gestured toward the door. "We'll be right outside, Emma. Call us when you're changed."

She could see the conflict in Emma's eyes, the debate within herself whether or not she liked this much loving attention. _One day_, Snow thought with a sad smile. One day she and Charming would be able to shower Emma with all the love and affection they wanted without Emma's independent side railing against it.

They left the cabin then, leaving Emma to change and get herself situated. Only after they closed the door did they embrace tightly and allow themselves to truly feel what had happened on the beach. They'd almost lost their baby forever. They didn't know what had taken their daughter, and they probably never would. All they knew was that if it weren't for some quick action on Hook's part and some quick thinking on theirs, they would have lost her forever.

"It's all right, Snow," Charming whispered, and only then did Snow realize that she was crying. "She's fine now. It's all right."

She stood in her husband's arms and indulged the tears a moment longer, but when she heard her daughter's weary voice calling both her and Charming, she forced herself to pull away. She wiped her eyes and blinked back the rest of her tears. "Are you all right?" Charming softly asked.

"Yes," she replied, even though she wasn't quite sure if that was true. Emma came first, though, and it was time to take care of her baby.

They entered the cabin to find Emma already sitting on the double bed, her wet clothes piled on the floor by her feet. Charming picked up her pants and tank top and draped them over a beam near the ceiling to dry. "Turn around," Snow murmured to Emma as she climbed up on the bed behind her.

Emma did as instructed and turned so that her back was to her mother. Snow began gently combing her fingers through the tangles in Emma's wet hair. It was only when Charming dragged the chair out from behind Hook's desk and sat down that Emma seemed to realize that her father needed to get out of his wet clothes as well. "You should get changed, too," she said. "You and Hook both. You're as soaked as I was."

"I can wait a few minutes," Charming replied, giving a halfhearted shrug. Though he was shivering just as Emma had been earlier, Snow knew he didn't want to leave his daughter's side for even a moment.

The three of them sat in comfortable silence as Snow continued to untangle her daughter's hair. She was hoping the soothing motion and the quiet would eventually lull her stubborn daughter to sleep.

Just when she thought it might be working, a soft knock on the doorjamb startled them. Snow looked up to find Regina standing in the doorway. From the discouraged and weary expression on her stepmother's face, she gathered that she and Rumple had been as unsuccessful in their search as everyone else had. "I heard there was some excitement," Regina said a little uncomfortably. "I'm glad to see that you're all right."

"Thanks," Emma replied, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion. Regina was actually happy that she was still alive? What was this, Opposite Day?

"Please do try to stay alive, Ms. Swan," she continued. She sounded annoyed but Snow knew her well enough to hear the concern beneath her exasperation. "Henry will never forgive me if something happens to you."

Emma must have caught the concern in her eyes as well because she didn't get angry at the self-serving statement. Instead, the corners of her mouth twitched up in a tiny smile. "I'll do my best."

Regina smiled back, gave the family a nod, and disappeared down the hall.

Silence again settled over the cabin. Snow had gotten most of her daughter's hair untangled and had just started to work through a stubborn knot when Emma's head began to drop forward. After a couple of nods, Snow caught Charming's eye, silently asking if Emma was finally falling asleep. He nodded at her, so she chanced whispering, "Lie down, Emma."

Emma didn't protest, and Snow helped her lie back until her head was resting on the pillow. Charming got up from the chair, drew the covers up around Emma's shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Sleep tight, princess."

As Charming stood up straight, Snow said, "You should get out of those clothes before you catch your death. I'll stay here with her."

Though reluctant to leave his daughter, he couldn't deny that he needed to dry off and get warm. He nodded at his wife and gave her a kiss on the forehead as well. "I'll be right back," he promised.

She watched him leave and then curled up on the bed next to her soundly sleeping daughter. She understood now why Hook had offered up his cabin; his bed was indeed far more comfortable than the bunks in the crew's quarters. Once she was sure that Emma was in a deep enough sleep, she lightly grasped her baby's hand and just lay there, listening to her daughter's steady breathing. It reminded her how grateful and relieved she was that Emma was breathing at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Yes, this is the second update in two days. Don't get too used to it, though. This is just the result of a quiet weekend with a story I've had planned in my head for like, a month. ;) Also, premiere tonight! Finally, hiatus is over!

* * *

It was only after Charming left to change his clothes that Snow realized he was in the same boat as Emma, as it were. No one had had a chance to prepare for a rescue mission to another land. As such, aide from Hook, the only clothes any of them had were what was on their backs when they left. Charming had had to swallow his pride and ask Hook if he had some clothes that he could borrow as well. Just until his clothes dried, of course.

Hook, probably sensing opportunity, had not lent him a simple nightshirt. Snow had had to stifle a giggle when Charming stepped back into the cabin dressed in full pirate regalia, black leather from head to toe. Upon noticing the amusement dancing in his wife's eyes, Charming had groaned, "Don't say a single word."

"You look dashing in leather," was all she'd said, giving him a little smirk.

That had been over an hour ago. Charming, who had dragged Hook's desk chair over to the bed so he could be close to his daughter, kept getting up every few minutes to check the dampness level of his clothes. Apparently, he didn't want to wear Hook's clothing any longer than required.

For the most part, they'd spent the hour in relative silence. Emma was still sleeping peacefully, and, barring Charming's checking of his clothes, neither he nor Snow had left her side. Snow had yet to release her grip on Emma's hand, choosing to allow the physical contact to comfort her and reassure her that her baby hadn't been lost to the Neverland waters.

But she had almost been lost to the Neverland waters, and Snow couldn't seem to come to terms with that fact. She propped herself up on one elbow, peeking over her daughter to meet her husband's eyes. "What if we'd lost her, Charming?" she asked softly.

"Oh, Snow, don't do that to yourself," he replied just as softly. "We _didn't_ lose her. Don't drive yourself insane with the what-ifs."

"We didn't lose her this time," Snow argued. "We still could lose her. If her being taken under the waves has taught me anything, it's that this rescue mission is not going to be easy. This land is dangerous and we're all out of our element here. I know she can handle herself and I know if we ever truly suggested it, she would have a conniption, but I just want to confine her to this ship for the duration. I can't lose her, Charming. I can't. We've lost enough time with her. We just got her back; she can't be taken from us again."

Charming vacated his seat in an instant. He rounded the bed, sat down next to his wife, and gathered her in a tight hug just as her tears spilled over. "She won't be taken from us," he murmured into her ear.

"How can you promise me that?" she sniffled.

"Because neither you nor I will allow it." He let her go and looked her in the eye. "We will fight for her and we will protect her. We'll keep her out of harm's way. We're _not _going to lose her, Snow. I need you to believe that. _She_ needs you to believe that."

Snow looked deep into her husband's eyes, trying to determine if he was simply trying to buck her up or if he truly believed what he was saying. She had her answer in an instant: he absolutely believed what he'd said. He would protect their baby with everything he had, and so would she. If anyone wanted Emma, that person would have to go through her parents first, and that was a fight no one but Snow and Charming would win.

How had she ever doubted that?

She glanced down at her still sleeping daughter. Her baby, whose damp hair was framing her face in such a way that it made her look far younger than her years, like the little girl Snow had never known. Her sweet girl, whom she'd almost lost but who had found the strength to fight her way back to her family.

"I do believe that," she affirmed after a long moment, looking back up into her husband's deep gaze. "We're not going to lose her. We won't allow it, and I don't think she'll allow it, either."

They exchanged a smile and another tight embrace. A soft knock on the door caused them to pull apart almost guiltily, like teenagers on the verge of being caught stealing kisses. After a moment, the door creaked open and Hook poked his head in. "My apologies for the interruption," he said and then, upon noticing that Emma was still asleep, lowered his voice. "She's still out?"

"She hasn't even moved," Snow confirmed as Charming stood and returned to the chair, sitting vigil at his daughter's side. "She's exhausted."

A frown of consternation furrowed the pirate's brow, but before Snow could ask what was bothering him, he shook off the emotion and got down to business. "The Queen and the croc – er, Rumpelstiltskin are eager to continue the search. As I imagined she wasn't up to going back out and neither of you would want to leave her side, I've offered to go with them. I urged Rumpelstiltskin to cast a cloaking spell on the ship so the three of you will be safe to stay here, and he agreed."

"Thank you, Hook," Snow said with utter sincerity. She had to admit, the level of caring he'd displayed for her daughter since pulling her out of the seas was surprising. She was sure a large part of it was guilt; after all, Emma had been taken on his watch. But part of it was coming from a place of genuine concern, and it was rather touching.

Even if she couldn't stand him most of the time.

"I'm sure we'll be continuing the search, too," she continued. "As soon as she wakes."

"I don't doubt it," the pirate replied, a small smile on his lips. No, Emma Swan would not sit idly by and let the likes of Hook, Rumpelstiltskin, and Regina be the only ones searching for her son. "If you do venture out, the Queen asked me to instruct you to meet back here on the _Roger_ when night falls. It will help keep us all apprised of our observations if we have regular meeting times."

"Leave it to Regina to take over," Snow grumbled. Still, she nodded her assent to the pirate. If they were going to split up, there was no other way to keep in touch except for regular meet-ups. Not for the first time, she missed the cell phone service of Storybrooke.

Instruction given, the pirate left and pulled the door closed behind him. Charming stared at the closed door a long moment. Snow could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Eventually, he turned to his wife and asked, "Did he seem concerned to you?"

"When?"

"When you told him Emma hadn't moved."

Snow frowned. Something about her statement have given Hook pause, but had she detected concern on his features? If he had been concerned, wouldn't he have said something? "Do you think he has reason to be concerned?"

"He knows this land better than anyone," Charming reminded her, "and he's seen near drownings before. Whether or not I believe he has reason to be concerned is irrelevant. If he was, maybe we should be, too."

Once again, Snow lightly gripped her daughter's limp hand as she looked down at her. Could something more be going on than her simply resting up after a traumatic experience? Maybe Snow should try to wake her. Then again, if her poor baby was just exhausted and in a deep sleep, she would feel terrible about waking her, especially considering what it had taken to get Emma to sleep in the first place. "We'll keep a closer eye on her, then."

Charming nodded, understanding her hesitance. He wanted Emma to get the rest she needed as well, and he didn't dare wake her before she was ready. Plus, a tired Emma was a grumpy Emma, and neither of them wanted a grumpy Emma on their hands.

As time ticked by, though, Snow's own concern began to grow. When she'd told Hook that Emma hadn't moved, she'd meant it; her daughter hadn't so much as twitched a muscle. That in and of itself was abnormal. Emma was a deep sleeper, yes, but not at first. It usually took a bit of turning and fidgeting for her to reach the point of dead, unmoving sleep. All the nights in the Enchanted Forest she woke to find Emma's knees digging into her back were testament to that.

And then there was the rhythm of Emma's breathing. Something about it struck Snow as odd, and it took her a moment to realize what the problem was: it was too shallow. Much like her father, Emma snored. Not loudly and not until she was in a deep enough sleep, but she did snore. She wasn't snoring now, and considering the depth of her slumber, she should have been.

Her concern now at fever pitch, Snow squeezed Emma's hand. There was no response. She should have gotten something, even if it was only a twitch of her daughter's fingers. But there was nothing.

Snow shot upright. The expression on her face must have alerted Charming because he sat up straight in the chair. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, hoping against hope that she was simply overreacting. "Emma, sweetie," she called, gently shaking her daughter's shoulder. "It's time to get up now."

Again, there was no response. She gave her a rougher shake, her voice growing more insistent. "Emma, wake up."

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Charming stand up from the chair and relocate to the edge of the bed beside Emma's knees. He loudly called his daughter's name while tickling her side through the blanket. The tickling was a trick Henry employed whenever he couldn't wake her by normal means, and it always worked.

Always, except for today.

Throughout it all, Emma hadn't even flinched. She _was_ breathing, so that was minor comfort, but why wouldn't she wake up? "Why the hell can't we wake her?" Charming asked frantically, panic in his eyes.

Snow shook her head, then suddenly thought of something. If Emma's love for Henry had been strong enough to wake him …

She leaned down, kissed her baby's forehead, and waited.

Nothing. No wave of light, no gust of wind, no indication of magic, and no response from her sleeping daughter. Her heart dropping into her stomach, she could only watch as Charming tried the same thing to the same result.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. No, they'd just gotten her back! Charming had promised her they wouldn't lose her again. He'd promised! And Emma had been fine after Hook and Charming had dragged her out of the water. She'd been perfectly fine! Hadn't she?

"What could be wrong that even True Love's Kiss won't wake her?"

She didn't realize she'd asked the question aloud until Charming's teary and frantic eyes met her own. "I haven't the faintest idea," he replied.

Snow tightened her grip on her baby's hand. "Emma, please wake up, honey. We need you. _I_ need you."

Emma remained still, and Snow bowed her head, letting the tears come forth in earnest. When she felt Charming wrap his arms around her, she turned into the embrace, crying into his – well, Hook's – shirt. "We can't lose her, Charming. What are we going to do?" she murmured.

"We're going to wake her up," Charming said, his voice teary but insistent.

"How?"

There was a pause before he said, "We'll figure it out. We're not going to lose her, Snow. We're not going to allow it, remember? You said you believed that, and now, we _really_ need to you believe it."

She let his words sink in, allowed her husband's faith to buoy her own. "I do believe that," she said after a moment, looking directly into Charming's eyes. "We're not going to lose her."

"Damn straight we're not."

At that, Snow gave her husband a tiny smile. Then she took a deep breath, swallowed the rest of her tears, and prepared herself to fight for her daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

Hook had spent a long, fruitless few hours searching through the Neverland jungle with the Evil Queen and Rumpelstiltskin. The two of them had bickered the entire time. By the time the sun began to lower in the sky, he was ready to shackle them both and make them spend the night in the brig. How he managed to restrain himself and simply tell them that it was time to be heading back to the ship to rendezvous with the others, he would never know.

Of course, then the Queen had begun arguing that they still had plenty of daylight left, leading him to remind her how swiftly night fell in Neverland. "By all means, milady, spend the night out here, but you'll be spending it alone," he'd said, effectively putting an end to the Queen's complaints.

Though it had taken them less than half an hour to return to the beach where the cloaked _Jolly Roger_ was anchored, it was pitch black when they arrived. Hook and the Queen were walking side by side through the sand when she all of a sudden stiffened and stopped in her tracks. "Something's wrong," she murmured, mostly under her breath.

Hook paused beside her. "What's the matter?"

"Can't you feel it?" she asked, her voice soft yet troubled. "Something's … not right."

"It's Neverland, darling. Nothing here is right." He continued walking, and after a moment, he heard the Queen follow him.

It wasn't until he set foot on deck that he admitted to himself that she may have been onto something. The prince was frantically pacing the deck, port to starboard and back again. His face was drawn, and when he looked up at the new arrivals after spotting them out of the corner of his eye, Hook noticed that his eyes were rimmed with red. The expression on his face, the same one that had been on his face when he'd had to carry his unconscious daughter to the shore, sent Hook's heart to his stomach.

It was Swan. Something was wrong with Swan. "What is it?" he asked, stepping toward the prince.

"We can't wake her," the prince answered. His voice caught slightly, as if saying the words out loud had made it real to him.

Hook took off for his cabin with the prince at his heels and the Queen and Rumpelstiltskin following closely behind them. All four of them burst through the cabin door, causing the princess to look up sharply through teary eyes. She was lying on the bed beside her daughter, propped up on one elbow and running her thumb back and forth over the back of Swan's limp hand.

As for Swan, she was still lying on her back with her eyes closed, just as when Hook had left all those hours ago. "Has she been like this the entire time?" he asked, sinking down in his desk chair. He remembered after a moment that the prince had pulled it up to the side of the bed so he could be close to his daughter.

The princess simply nodded before refocusing her attention on her unresponsive daughter.

If her parents hadn't told him she wouldn't wake, Hook would have believed that Swan was merely sleeping. There was nothing to outwardly indicate that anything was wrong. It was with a small gasp of relief that he noticed her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. He remembered all too well how utterly still she'd been when he pulled her from the water.

Whatever this was, at least she was still breathing.

"She looks like she's under a sleeping curse," Regina murmured, drawing everyone's attention. Upon feeling the four sets of eyes on her, the Queen sniffed. "What? I'm not claiming responsibility. I'm simply stating a fact."

"It's not a sleeping curse," the prince spoke up wearily. "We've tried that."

"True Love's Kiss wouldn't wake her?" Regina asked, frowning in confusion. Behind her, Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

"No," Snow replied, her voice thick.

Aside from the glance up at Regina, Hook hadn't taken his eyes off Swan. The woman was so usually full of life and fire, and here she lay, so completely still. His concern and worry gave way to anger as something hit him.

The Queen had known. Before they've even boarded the ship, she'd known. "You knew something was wrong with her when we were approaching the ship," he growled, shooting up from the chair and whirling on the Queen. "If you didn't do anything to her, how did you know that she was in danger?"

"I didn't know that something was wrong with _her_," Regina insisted, anger of her own flashing into her eyes. "I simply sensed that something was amiss."

"I think things are a little more than amiss," Rumpelstiltskin muttered under his breath, a touch of amusement in his tone.

"She was fine until she nearly died on your watch, Hook," the prince spoke up furiously, crossing the room to stand in front of the pirate. "You're the one who knows this land inside and out. What the hell is happening to my daughter?"

"How in the bloody hell should I know?" he shot back, just as angrily. "In all my centuries in this wretched land, I've not seen anything like this."

That, apparently, was not enough for the prince. "You want to talk about knowing something was wrong? You knew something was wrong before you left. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know something was wrong! I simply thought it odd that you said she hadn't moved."

"You promised you would keep her safe," David continued as if Hook hadn't spoken. His hands clenched into fists as he stepped closer, now in the pirate's face. "You promised you would look after her. We trusted you with her life and you–"

"Everyone, stop!" Snow hollered, standing up from the bed. The room went silent. David stepped back, giving his wife a contrite look. Hook blinked at the princess before glancing down at Swan. The argument hadn't disturbed her at all.

"Arguing and passing blame will not solve anything," Snow continued sternly. Hook remembered Swan saying something about her being a schoolteacher during the curse. Listening to her now, he could believe it. "It doesn't matter to me at all right now who was at fault or if no one was at fault. All I want is for my daughter to wake up. Now, who can tell me what's happening to Emma?"

When no one offered any ideas, Snow heaved an exasperated sigh. She once again tapped into her inner schoolteacher and started calling on people. "Hook, do you know of anything in this land that could cause something like this?"

"No," he said, deflated. He'd been wracking his brain from the moment he sat down next to Swan's bedside, and he'd unfortunately come up empty. "The mermaids and sirens are more into trickery and drownings than something like this."

"Could it simply be a physical reaction to her trauma?" Regina suggested.

"What, like a coma?" David asked. Regina shrugged.

After a moment of thought, Hook shook his head. "I've never seen anything similar in the near drownings I've witnessed, and I've witnessed a fair few. Whatever this is, it's not a normal reaction to anything I've ever seen or experienced."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as everyone tried to think. Out of the corner of his eye, Hook saw the prince glaring at Rumpelstiltskin. After a long moment, David set his shoulders and finally addressed the imp. "You're being awfully quiet over there, Gold. You see the future. Do you really expect us to believe that you don't know what's wrong with her?"

"I don't know what exactly is plaguing Miss Swan," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I only know that what you see before you is a test."

"A test?" Snow repeated incredulously.

"I wasn't aware that I stuttered. Yes, a test."

"What kind of a test?" David asked, stepping closer to his wife's side of the bed.

"One that will determine whether or not this entire mission will be successful."

_Enough is enough_, Hook thought with an inward groan. "Will you stop speaking in riddles? What do we have to do to wake Swan?"

"Figuring that out is part and parcel of the test, dearie."

Hook groaned aloud. Of course it was.

"You're really not going to tell us what we have to do?" Snow asked him, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

"That would be cheating," he replied with an impish grin.

"I don't care!" Snow cried. Even her husband gently resting his hands on her shoulders couldn't calm a worried mother's fury. "She's my daughter! If you know something that could help her, you need to tell me!"

Before the argument had the chance to degenerate into another screaming match, Regina stepped forward with a suggestion. "There's something I can try, though you're probably not going to like it," she said, looking directly at the prince and princess. "I need to use magic on her."

Snow and David exchanged a glance, trying to decide whether or not Regina using magic was a risk they were willing to take. It was clear to Hook that they didn't want to give the woman who'd tried to kill all of them on numerous occasions free reign to use magic on their daughter, but at the same time, they didn't have much of a choice. The Queen was offering them a possible solution – the only one so far. They had to take her up on it.

Eventually, Snow asked, "This magic you need to use … will it hurt her?"

"No."

Another loaded look passed between husband and wife. When David gave her a small nod, Snow tore her gaze from her husband's. She glared at Regina instead, the look in her eyes deadly. "We'll allow it, but if you hurt her, Regina, so help me ..."

The Queen looked like she had so much to say in response but she managed to hold her tongue. Instead, she shot Snow a smirk before stepping up to the bed. Hook slid the chair down by Swan's knees to give the Queen room by her head. After a couple of deep breaths, she held her right hand out over Swan's stomach.

Shutting her eyes, she slowly passed her hand over Swan, starting at her stomach and ending up by her head. A dark blue glow began to issue forth from the Queen's palm. Her head dropped forward as she rested her hand on Swan's forehead.

For a long moment, everyone was silent. Hook watched with an arched brow as the expression on the Queen's face went from calm to confused to concerned. She gave a sudden flinch and removed her hand from Swan's forehead, the blue glow disappearing instantly. She looked up and met Swan's parents' eyes, genuine regret on her features. "We have a problem."


	5. Chapter 5

Conversation – arguments, really – swirled around Snow. She could faintly hear her husband demanding answers. She could just as faintly hear Regina almost helplessly insisting that she didn't know any more than she'd already explained. Hook had shot up from the chair at Regina's statement and had begun pacing the length of the room. Only Rumpelstiltskin seemed unperturbed, calmly watching everyone from the corner of the cabin.

For Snow, Charming's and Regina's voices had faded into a low hum and Hook's movement had blurred. The only thing she could focus on as she tried to make sense of what Regina had told them was her baby. Her sweet girl, so strong and vital and wonderful and amazing. Her precious child, whose magic Regina couldn't sense.

That was what she'd said: she couldn't sense Emma's magic. Not as strongly as she should have been able to, at any rate.

What on earth did that mean? Of course, Snow knew what it meant, fundamentally, but what did it mean for Emma? And how did it explain why she wouldn't wake?

"All I know is that your daughter is extremely powerful," Regina was saying to Charming, who sounded like he was seconds away from throwing punches. Snow tore her gaze from her sleeping daughter's far too peaceful face and looked up at her stepmother. "Latent magical abilities are rare. Typically, they come from gaining power somehow. I learned how to access magic, use it for my own purposes. I don't possess it. She possesses it. Regardless, I should be able to feel it. I should be able to feel _her_, magic to magic, and I can't."

"English, please, Regina," Snow wearily requested. She didn't have the patience for the riddles and the long-winded explanations. All she wanted to know was what it all meant and how it explained anything that was happening.

Regina set her mouth in a thin line, glaring at Snow. When she spoke, it was with barely concealed impatience. "In plain English? The strength of your daughter's magic should be off the charts. It's barely a blip on the radar at the moment, and even in the short time I monitored it, that blip weakened."

"So what the hell does that mean?" Charming asked angrily.

"I've already told you that I don't know."

Hook stopped pacing and looked first at Emma and then at Regina. "Do you think that's what you sensed when you sensed something wrong?" he asked, speaking up for the first time since Regina had sent the room into a tizzy. "Do you think you sensed her weakening magic?"

"It's possible," Regina replied, giving the most halfhearted shrug Snow had ever seen. Though not surprising, her blasé attitude was maddening, especially considering how regretful she'd been when she'd first delivered the news. Snow knew that she was more troubled than she was letting on; she could see it in her eyes. Still, a little outward sympathy would not have gone unappreciated.

Then again, she supposed that was expecting a bit much.

"It's usually a conscious decision to sense magic to magic," Regina continued, oblivious to Snow's mental wanderings, "but I suppose the sheer amount of magic in the air here could be heightening those senses, making the conscious unconscious."

Snow gripped her daughter's limp hand, hoping against hope that the contact would spur her daughter into waking and thus put an end to this nightmare. Of course, nothing happened. Emma remained as still as she'd been for hours.

Charming, who'd been staring at his wife and daughter while stewing in anger and worry, flicked his eyes to Rumpelstiltskin. "Any thoughts?"

"You're on the right track," was all the imp said.

Hook resumed pacing. Charming clenched his hands into fists and crossed the room, sinking down beside Snow on the bed, partly to comfort his wife but mostly to keep from taking swings at both Rumple and Regina.

"Oh, sweetie," Snow whispered to Emma, cupping her daughter's cheek in her free hand. "Why won't you come back to us?"

Why indeed? She had found her way back to them before, just a few hours ago. She'd found the strength to claw her way back from the depths then. What was different now?

Unless the magic was the difference. As Regina had said, Emma possessed magic. That made it a part of her, as much a part of her as her stubbornness and her fierce determination and everything else that made her Emma. If that part of her was somehow weakening …

Snow looked up at her stepmother. "Could the weakening magic cause her condition?"

"Again, it's possible," Regina replied with another shrug. This shrug was defeated and weary rather than impatient and halfhearted; her concern was more obvious now. Whether it was truly concern for Emma's wellbeing or simply concern over how Henry would react if the situation worsened, Snow wasn't sure. "Ms. Swan is a bit of a wild card. I've never met anyone who possesses magic innately the way she does."

"Oh, Miss Swan doesn't simply possess magic," Rumpelstiltskin finally spoke up. Snow felt Charming tense at the smug glint in the imp's eyes. She placed her free hand on his shoulder to calm him. She didn't appreciate the man handing out bits of information piecemeal like this, either, but they _needed_ that information. Yelling could come later. "As the product of True Love, she was born of magic. It's her birthright … her bloodright. It makes up who she is as much as her DNA does. Essentially, dearies, she _is_ magic."

Charming's hand reached up to find the one Snow had rested on his shoulder. He squeezed, giving her comfort as the implications of the conversation began to settle. Emma's magic was weakening. Emma was magic.

Which meant _Emma_ was weakening.

Though Snow didn't really want to know the answer, she had to ask. "What happens if her magic weakens completely?"

Regina and Rumpelstiltskin exchanged a glance, and Snow's heart dropped into her stomach. These were two people who'd made no bones about the fact that they couldn't stand her, Charming, or Emma, and yet here they were, seemingly afraid to answer her question. That did not bode well at all.

Charming once again squeezed Snow's hand as he tearily asked, "Could she die?"

Another glance passed between the two magic experts. Then, swallowing hard, Regina looked at Charming and Snow and nodded.

The news hit Snow right in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. She tightened her grip on Emma's hand, dropped her head to her daughter's stomach, and let the tears come. She couldn't lose Emma now! She couldn't. She'd just gotten her back!

It couldn't end like this. They'd missed the first twenty-eight years of her child's life. Twenty-eight years! They couldn't have her back for such a short time only to have her ripped from them yet again. It was … cruel. And unfair. So unbelievably unfair.

She felt Charming wrap his arms around her shoulders, and she heard his sniffles in her ear. Her husband, usually so strong and so full of faith, was losing hope as well.

And then she felt a sudden wave of anger. They'd missed their baby's entire life. Their baby, who could be dying right now. And the woman who was responsible for their missing their baby's entire life was standing in the room with them.

_No_. It was _not_ going to end like this.

Snow looked up, tears still running down her cheeks, and fixed a deadly glare on her stepmother. "This is your fault," she growled.

Regina's jaw dropped open in indignation. "_My_ fault? I did not do a thing!"

"Didn't do a thing?" Snow repeated mockingly as she pushed herself to her feet. She thought Charming might have said her name in warning, but she was so furious that she couldn't even hear him. "Didn't do a thing? You stole her from us! We missed her whole life because of your horrible curse. Her _entire life_, Regina. Think of all those firsts you got to experience and all the little things you shared with Henry. You _stole_ those from us. That's time we can _never_ get back, and now you're telling me she could die and you have no idea why or how? No, I refuse to allow it. You are going to figure out what's wrong with her and you are going to fix it."

"Oh, really?" Regina asked, arching a single eyebrow at her wayward stepdaughter's outburst. "And why, pray tell, am I going to do this?"

"You're going to do it because you owe us," Snow replied, gesturing toward Charming. He slipped his hand into hers, calming her anger to the point that it wasn't blinding while also giving her strength. "You're going to do it because you owe Emma. And you're going to do it because deep down, you don't want anything to happen to her, either, if only because Henry will be devastated. That's why you helped in the first place, isn't it?"

The room was silent as Snow and Regina stared at each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Snow caught Rumpelstiltskin watching the proceedings with a tiny smile on his lips. Was this what he wanted? Did it mean they were passing the test?

In what was probably a first, Regina was the one who gave in. Snow suspected she was doing it solely for Henry's sake, but as long as Regina was helping, she didn't really care about her motivations. "Fine. Captain, you're going to need to tell us everything you know about the creatures in Neverland's waters."

Hook, who'd sunk back down in the chair and had been staring at Emma since learning how serious her predicament was, blinked and looked up at Regina questioningly. "You think whatever took her under the waves did this to her?"

"The timing is too close to be a coincidence," Regina nodded, leaning back against the desk. "She was her typical infuriating self up until she got taken underwater. Whatever is draining her magic, I'm willing to bet that's where it started."

"Well, then," Hook sighed, sparing another troubled glance at Emma, "you might as well make yourself comfortable. We're going to be here for quite some time."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Just wanted to give y'all a quick heads-up: next update won't be coming quite as quickly as the others. My brother is getting married tomorrow (eee!) and as such, my opportunities for writing over the next couple of days are going to be slim to none. (Seriously, I'm posting this and then running off to my mom's to do bachelorette stuffs.) I will be back, though, I promise! Thank you so much for the reviews and follows and favorites thus far. You guys are seriously awesome. :)

* * *

Apparently there were dozens of creatures that called Neverland home. Mermaids and kelpies and sirens and many more, most of which Snow had never even heard of and any of which could have done something to Emma. Hook and Regina started debating the powers and abilities of the various magical water-dwellers close to an hour ago, and the names of said creatures had long since begun to jumble in Snow's head.

Not to mention that they were no closer to a solution now than they were an hour ago. In fact, Snow actually felt like they were even more behind the curve. Before they'd had no options; now they had far too many.

"What does it matter?" Snow asked wearily, interrupting an extensive back and forth between Regina and Hook over whether or not a kelpie would have the power to do something to Emma other than attempt to drown her. "Can't we just treat the symptoms and figure out the cause later?"

"We need to know the cause in order to treat the symptoms," Regina snapped, not even bothering to hide her exasperation. "You wouldn't expect a pain reliever to cure an infection. It's the same with magic. We need to understand the nature of what's draining her magic if we can even hope to stop it."

"It has to be some kind of magic, though, right?" Charming asked. Snow had let go of Emma's hand only for Charming to take it and almost unconsciously begin running his thumb in circles over the back of her hand. "Only magic could drain her magic."

"Yes."

"Healing magic could reverse this, then, couldn't it? Why can't you just heal her?"

Regina cast a glance over her shoulder at Rumpelstiltskin. Snow thought she might be rolling her eyes at their utter naivety, but she couldn't be sure. After a beat, Regina turned around and faced the panicked parents again. "My magical curriculum didn't exactly include the healing arts. I never learned it."

"You have to try!" Snow cried. Emma could be dying! Who cared if Regina had never learned healing magic? She could at least attempt it.

"I don't _have_ to do anything," Regina sniffed, "and it doesn't work that way. It takes discipline and concentration to practice magic properly. Attempting to heal someone as ill as your daughter without ever having done it before is … unwise, to say the least."

"You have healing magic," Charming spoke up, looking past Regina to Rumpelstiltskin. "I've seen you use it. Heal her."

"It's not that simple, dearie. This is just as much of a test for Miss Swan as it is for all of you."

Snow and Charming exchanged a confused glance. How could Emma pass any kind of test in her condition? "But she's asleep," Snow sputtered a bit unnecessarily. "She's not in any kind of condition to do anything."

"She's asleep, yes, but she's not entirely unaware," the imp replied, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Charming demanded. He let go of Emma's hand and stood up from the bed. Snow rested a hand on his shoulder to keep him from charging forward and breaking the tenuous cooperative spirit they'd come to achieve.

"It means that Miss Swan has lessons of her own to learn."

"Oi, enough with the enigmas, mate," Hook grumbled, mostly under his breath. He'd gone back to staring at Emma, as if silently willing her to open her eyes. The sheer desperation on his features made Snow's breath catch in her throat. _He really does care for her_, she thought, wondering why it had taken her so long to realize it. Underneath all the smug innuendo and traded barbs lay genuine caring.

She looked to her husband to see if he'd noticed, but it didn't appear that he had. Which was, in all honesty, for the best. Snow only had the energy for one crisis at a time, and Charming discovering that Hook actually cared for Emma was not something she had the patience for at the moment.

Right now, she had to deal with Rumpelstiltskin having more answers than he originally admitted and not giving them in a concise manner. "We don't have time for puzzles. Please tell me what we need to do to save her."

When Rumpelstiltskin remained silent, something within Snow snapped. She'd had it with him. She'd had it with everyone! They were running out of time. All she cared about was waking Emma up, and being nice had gotten her nowhere. Perhaps like with Regina earlier, it was time to get angry.

"You're such a hypocrite, you know that?" she hurled at the imp. "You want everyone to do your bidding. You move people around like chess pieces and then sit back and watch the rats scramble. You have no problem meddling in everyone else's lives to get what you want, but the minute someone wants something from you, you play games with them. Emma is _dying_, and you know how to fix it. Never mind the fact that she broke the curse for you because you didn't have the power to do it yourself. Never mind the fact that she found your son for you because you didn't have the courage to approach him yourself. Never mind the fact that she protected you and refused to let you die. You owe her, too, Rumpelstiltskin. She didn't give up on you. Don't you dare give up on her."

Her righteous anger thus spent, Snow let out a heavy breath. Weary despair was beginning to settle in now. If her little speech didn't move Rumpelstiltskin and he still refused to help, she didn't know what else to do.

Rumpelstiltskin stared her down for far longer than she was comfortable with, causing her heart to pound in her chest. She felt Charming slide his hand into hers and squeeze, letting her know that he was behind her one hundred percent. Eventually, the imp let out a heavy breath of his own. "You are quite the powerful speaker, Snow White. Your daughter is under a spell." He spared a glance at Hook and Regina. "No, it wasn't a kelpie. It was most likely a water wraith, though getting into the specifics of it is a bit unnecessary at the moment."

A wraith? A wraith went after her baby? Snow felt Charming's hand tighten around hers once again, and she knew that he, too, was remembering the wraith from Storybrooke. "Why didn't True Love's Kiss work, then?" Charming demanded.

"A spell and a curse are two different things," Regina reminded them. "The words are sometimes used interchangeably but they're not at all the same. True Love's Kiss can break any curse, but your daughter is not cursed."

Snow glanced down at her sleeping daughter. Technically, she may not have been cursed but it certainly looked – and felt – like she was. However, this was not the time to argue semantics.

"The spell is two-fold," Rumpelstiltskin continued. "First it does what you see before you … puts the victim into a deep sleep. Then it drains its victim's magic until there's nothing left. Ordinarily the spell would simply leave a person weak and without access to his or her abilities once it wore off. With Miss Swan, however, this spell is potentially deadly."

"Why does it need to put her to sleep first?" Hook asked.

Before Rumpelstiltskin could even open his mouth to answer, Charming's eyes lit up in sudden understanding. "So she can't fight back," he murmured.

The imp gave him a tiny, almost proud smile. "Now you're getting it."

All of this information was all well and good, but it still didn't tell Snow what she needed to know. "So how do we break this spell?"

"We don't," Charming said, turning to his wife. He took her other hand in his, forcing her to face him and look into his eyes. "_We_ don't break the spell. She does."

Wait a second, that made no sense. How could Emma break a spell that she was under? How could she have any hope of survival? No, Charming had to be wrong. There had to be something they could do to save her.

She looked into her husband's eyes as she tried to figure out what he'd seen that she was missing. The spell didn't want Emma to have the strength to resist it, hence the deep sleep. Emma could save herself. Emma had her own lessons to learn. She wasn't completely unaware.

And all of a sudden, Snow understood. She knew what lesson Emma had to learn and what she and Charming could do to help her. "You said she wasn't unaware," she said, turning to Rumpelstiltskin. "Can she hear us?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Before Snow had a chance to berate him for the non-answer, Regina huffed, "Oh, knock it off with the ambiguity." She hopped down from her perch on the edge of Hook's desk and stepped closer to the worried parents. "If this is the spell I'm thinking of, it wants its victims weak. To accomplish this, it keeps its victims lost in their own insecurities so they don't have the wherewithal to resist it. She can hear you but the spell is going to twist everything you say to feed into the images it's giving her."

"So what do we do?" Charming asked, once again squeezing Snow's hand. "There has to be something we can do."

"If you want to help her, you have to make her listen, make her hear what you're really saying. You have to overcome the spell so she hears you and not it."

"And how do we do that?"

"I don't know."

This time, she really did look apologetic. Hook looked stricken. And was that … pride on Rumpelstiltskin's face?

Snow once again stared down at her daughter. Her amazingly wonderful, maddeningly stubborn, delightfully fierce daughter. Her pride and joy, her precious girl. Her baby, who might not make it out of this alive.

And in that moment, Snow knew. She knew that whatever happened next, whether she and Charming could find a way to cut through the spell and help Emma to understand how truly loved and strong and needed she was or whether they couldn't, they needed to be alone.

The things they needed to say to their daughter were too intimate to be said in front of an audience. And if these truly were the last few hours they had with her, she didn't want anyone else watching. It was all too much, and she needed to be alone with her daughter and husband.

"Everyone out," she said quietly. Charming shifted next to her but she squeezed his hand to let him know that he wasn't included in everyone. "Thank you for your help," she continued, looking up at the others, "but we need to be alone with our daughter."

Regina and Rumpelstiltskin both seemed to understand that the parents didn't want anyone in the room in case they failed to reach Emma in time. The imp left the cabin without another word, but Regina stopped at the doorway and glanced over her shoulder at Emma. The expression on her face was a combination of regret and worry, and it struck Snow as genuine. Of course, she was probably only concerned for Henry's sake, but it was still more emotion than she'd shown previously.

It seemed to take Hook a little longer to force himself from the chair at Emma's bedside. Snow winced at how utterly devastated he appeared. She met his eyes, trying to silently tell him that they would send for him the second anything changed. He must have understood, because he gave her a tiny smile of gratitude before standing and heading for the door. Just like Regina, he looked over his shoulder once and then pulled the door closed behind him.

Once alone, Charming gathered Snow in his arms and held her tightly. "We're not going to lose her, Snow," he murmured into her ear.

She allowed the comfort for a moment before saying, "I know." Then she pulled away, sniffed back the tears that had been threatening to fall, and looking deep into her husband's eyes. "Let's save our daughter."


	7. Chapter 7

Snow had so much she wanted to say to Emma, so much she _needed_ to say if these were truly going to be the last things she said to her daughter. She was, of course, trying not to believe that these were in fact the last things she was going to be able to say to Emma. She and Charming would find a way to cut through the spell keeping Emma hostage and help her find her way back to them; she was certain.

Mostly certain. There was still a niggling little bit of doubt, a little voice in her head saying, "But what if you don't?"

Emma's life was in their hands, and Snow was absolutely terrified. And even with all his faith, Charming was terrified, too; she could see it in his eyes.

Despite his fear, when he met her eyes, he looked at her in such a kind and caring – and, most importantly, trusting – way that the niggling little voice of doubt went silent. Charming trusted Snow to be able to reach Emma, and he trusted Emma to be able to find the strength to find her way back to them. His trust and his faith was more than enough to bolster Snow's own faith, in herself and in her daughter and in her husband.

They would succeed. There was no other option.

She settled down on the bed next to her sleeping daughter, propping herself up on one elbow so she could see Emma's face, and grasped her baby girl's hand in her own. On the other side of the bed, Charming slid the chair back into proper position up by Emma's head and took his daughter's other hand.

Snow smiled; as was typical, the two of them didn't even need to discuss anything aloud to be on the same page. Both assumed that a physical connection among the three of them would help to strengthen the emotional connection needed to overcome the spell.

"Emma, my sweet girl," Snow began, watching her daughter's serene face for any hint that what she was saying was reaching her. "I loved you from the day I found out you were going to be born. From the moment I first felt you move inside me, I knew you were the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me. Before you'd even come into this world, I knew you were going to be the light of my life. And you have been, Emma. You brought light to Storybrooke and you brought light into Mary Margaret's life. You gave me a spark when one was missing. You and I were family before we even knew we were related. I need you, Emma. Please come back to me. Please come back to us."

There was no response from Emma. Tears filled Snow's eyes as she looked to Charming. He swallowed hard and gave her a slight nod, silently telling her that he was going to try.

"When your mother told me we were going to have a baby, I couldn't have been more thrilled," Charming said as he brushed a finger down his daughter's cheek with his free hand. "I must have run around the castle and told everyone, which wasn't proper, by the way. But I didn't care. I was so proud that I did it anyway. I had all these grand plans for you. I was going to teach you how to ride a horse and how to wield a sword. You were going to be my little princess. Then the curse happened and took you from us, and we never got to do any of it. You have no idea how sorry I am for that, Emma. You should have had us, and we should have had you."

He glanced up at Snow when he saw her brush a tear off her cheek, but she just nodded at him, telling him to continue.

"It's not too late, though, Emma," he went on. "I can still teach you how to ride a horse and how to wield a sword, if you want. You just have to come back to us first. Please, Emma, I can't lose you before I've even really gotten to know you."

For a long beat, Emma was still, but then Snow felt something miraculous: Emma's fingers twitching in her hand. She held her breath, hoping it wasn't simply wishful thinking that made her feel a phantom muscle spasm. When Emma's fingers moved again, she looked up at her husband excitedly. "Charming, I just felt her fingers twitch!"

"That's it, Emma," Charming said encouragingly, a bit of excitement in his voice. "I know you can find your way home. You're a lot stronger than you think you are. Think of all the obstacles you've already overcome. You can do anything you set your mind to, sweetheart. You just have to believe in yourself. We trust you, and we know how strong you are. Now it's time for you to know it, too."

Emma's brows furrowed and knit together. Charming looked up at Snow, utterly amazed. It was working! Their words were indeed finally reaching her. "Follow our voices, Emma," Snow said, picking up the mantle from her husband. "Come back to us, honey. You are our happy ending."

For a brief moment, Emma was still. Then she turned her head, and her fingers closed around both her parents' hands. "She's doing it, Charming," Snow whispered, looking up at her husband with eyes shining with pride, love, relief, and joy. "She's fighting the spell."

* * *

Complete and total darkness surrounded Emma. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face, never mind anything around her. She had been walking for what seemed like forever in an effort to find her way out of the darkness and into some light but she was reasonably sure she'd been walking in circles.

Not that she had any idea where she was. It was just that she hadn't found any light whatsoever and she was pretty sure she should have by now.

Even more cruelly, sometimes she could hear voices, voices that were familiar to her. Sometimes the voices didn't say actual words she could understand; they were simply mumblings. When the voices did speak loudly enough for her to understand, they said awful things to her. Terrible things.

It was the worst when the voices sounded like her parents. The voices would say things that she was sure her parents would never say. Things like, "We never wanted you." Things like, "We were so much happier before you came back into our lives." Things like, "We hope you stay lost."

Her parents would never say those things to her. Never. Still, hearing those words in their voices was far too much for her to bear. She was ashamed to admit that she'd already cried once because she'd heard her mother's voice saying, "You were too much of a burden. That's why we gave you away. We couldn't wait for you to be born so we could be rid of you."

The more the voices talked, though, the more she started to wonder. Why would her mother and father say those things if they weren't true? Why would they tell her they never wanted her if they really did? Why would they hurt her like that if they didn't really mean it?

Maybe her parents hadn't wanted her after all. Maybe all that stuff in Storybrooke was just an act and now that they were in Neverland, they could leave her here amongst all the other lost children.

Sometimes she thought she could hear Hook and Regina, too. Hook reiterating what he'd said to her when she was locked in Rumpelstiltskin's cell, only even more cruelly. That she was worthless, that she had no right being the savior because she couldn't even manage to save herself. That he never cared anything at all for her and that all the flirting and innuendo had been nothing more than simple amusement.

The Regina voice would break in sometimes, telling her that she was nothing. That she wasn't even a worthy adversary, never mind a hero. That Henry had once confessed that he didn't even like her and was sorry he'd found her in Boston. "He feels sorry for you, Ms. Swan," the Regina voice had said. "It's pathetic."

And then sometimes the voices would fade and she would hear nothing. The silence was a bit creepy but, considering that the only voices she could hear were berating her, most welcome.

The voices were back now, though, and this time they sounded like her parents. She couldn't bear it any longer, didn't want to hear anything else her parents had to say. She pressed her hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the voices but they continued to talk. She eventually had to drop her hands when her arms began to get tired. It was her mother talking this time, telling her how she cried when she found out she was pregnant with her, not because she was happy but because neither she nor David wanted a baby and she knew he was going to be upset.

Just as she was about to press her hands against her ears again, tired arms be damned, she heard something that froze her in her tracks: "You brought light to Storybrooke and you brought light into Mary Margaret's life."

Those words were so heartfelt and honest, so different from everything she'd heard since she'd been in the darkness that she couldn't help but stop and listen. There was a quiet murmuring, as if the voice had turned away, and then she heard her father's voice, promising to teach her how to ride a horse and wield a sword if only she would come back to them.

But … she thought that they didn't want her! That's what they'd been saying the entire time she'd been in the darkness. Unless it hadn't really been them to begin with.

She resumed walking with renewed determination. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe she'd just been hearing things. Maybe someone was tricking her. Either way, she was going to find her way out of the darkness.

Her father's voice continued, telling her that she was strong. Telling her that he believed in her and telling her that all she needed to do to find her way back to them was believe in herself.

Then her mother's voice came back to tell her that she was their happy ending. She wanted to break down and cry right then and there, tears of joy and relief. Her parents _did_ want her, her parents _did_ love her.

Her parents needed her.

And if those voices had been lies, maybe the others had, too. Maybe Hook hadn't really said that she was worthless. Maybe Regina hadn't really said that Henry didn't like her.

Maybe everything had been a lie.

A pinprick of light poked its way through the darkness. It was the first sign of light Emma had seen since she woke to find herself in the darkness, and she ran towards it at top speed. The light grew bigger and bigger, a combination of her approach and the light itself increasing, until suddenly it was surrounding her. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden brightness and when she opened them again, she was looking right up into her parents' teary and relieved faces.

"You did it, Emma," Snow sniffled, cupping Emma's cheek in her palm. Emma reached a weak hand up to grab her mother's in a desperate need to make sure she was real. A tiny smile curled on her lips when she felt the warmth of her mother's skin underneath hers. "You found your way back to us."

"I knew you could do it, kiddo," David whispered, sniffing back tears of his own. He was holding her hand, she realized after a moment, and she tightened her hand around his in an effort to make sure that he, too, was real. He squeezed back, and the gesture filled her heart with love and comfort.

"The voices _weren't_ real," she murmured to herself as she struggled to sit up. Her parents moved with her, allowing her to sit but not leaving her side. She felt Snow stroking her hair as David rubbed circles on her back. For once, she allowed herself to be held. She needed the comfort, and something told her that her parents needed it, too. It was the way they were touching her, the same way she'd needed to touch them. They needed to prove to themselves that she was real, that she was okay.

As she glanced around, though, she suddenly realized where she was and what she was wearing. "All right, why the hell am I in Hook's room, in Hook's bed, and wearing Hook's clothes?"

Her parents both chuckled, their laughter tinkling in each of her ears. Snow wrapped her arm around her baby's shoulders and smiled. "Oh, Emma, do we have a story to tell you."


	8. Chapter 8

Was that Swan's voice that Hook had just heard? He'd been standing in the small corridor outside his cabin ever since the prince and princess had politely kicked him out of the room. Not that he'd been eavesdropping; he was sure that whatever Swan's parents had to say to her needed to be said in private. He'd mostly been listening for any indication that Swan's parents were in fact getting through to her.

The minutes had seemed to stretch into hours. He'd begun to pace, though he never stepped more than a few strides beyond either side of the door. The voices in the room faded too much otherwise.

He could hear the prince's deep voice and his wife's softer one, both of them hushed and comforting but pained and desperate as well. They'd been taking turns speaking, and Hook's heart had pounded in his chest as he'd held his breath and awaited the sound of a third voice answering them.

Just now, he swore he'd heard that third voice. As with the other two, he hadn't made out what the voice had said. He'd simply heard it, female and different in pitch than the princess's.

He wanted to bust into the cabin, needed to make sure he hadn't imagined it, but he knew he had to stay put. The princess had assured him that she would come to get him once something had changed. She'd kept her word so far, so he had to trust that she would let him know one way or the other.

The wait, however, was sheer torture.

Eventually, the cabin door began to creak open. Hook scrambled away from the door and backed up a couple of paces in an attempt to make it appear as if he'd just happened to be walking by. The door opened to reveal the princess standing on the other side. She must have seen through his false nonchalance because a tiny smirk pulled at her lips.

Damn it, he was caught. Hook shrugged at her, and her smirk turned into a touched smile. And then she said the words he'd been longing to hear: "She's awake."

The relief that washed over him was palpable, making his knees weak. He reached a hand out to the wall to steady himself. The princess smiled again and stepped out of the doorway, allowing him entry to the cabin.

Swan was sitting up, propped against his pillows and looking somewhat dazed but very much awake and alive. Some of the color had come back into her cheeks in the short time she'd been awake; she'd been ashen before. Her coloring had scared him, to be honest. He'd seen it before, in other people just before their death.

His thoughts came to a halt when she looked up and met his gaze. Her eyes were a little glassy but still retained that spark, that fire that was all her own. "That's the second time today that you've had me worried, love," he said softly, a gentle smile on his lips as he tried not to let his relief show too much. "Try not to make it a habit, all right?"

"I'll try," Swan replied just as softly and with a tiny smile of her own.

"That's all I ask."

Before any of them could say anything else, the Queen stepped past the cabin on the way to hers. She drew to a stunned stop when she spotted her nemesis sitting up and talking. "I see that you've survived yet another attempt on your life, Ms. Swan," she said as she ducked into the room. "You have more lives than a damn cat."

"Thanks, I think," Swan said, a smirk on her lips. She could see it, too, then; the relief underscoring the Queen's icy demeanor. The two women may not have been able to stand each other but there was an iota of begrudging respect between them. Neither of them wanted the other to die, if only because of what such a circumstance would do to their lad.

Not to mention that Hook was convinced the Queen would grow bored quite quickly without Swan to torment.

Speaking of Swan, Hook wondered how much of her ordeal she remembered. He looked over at her again. She met his eyes and must have been able to guess his question from the expression on his face because she let out a quiet sigh and said, "Get the other one in here. I only want to have to go through this once."

The Queen offered to retrieve Rumpelstiltskin, once again leaving parents, daughter, and pirate in silence. Since Swan's father was still seated in the desk chair, Hook crossed to the foot of the bed and perched on the edge. The prince glared at him as he did so, leading him to inquire, "Do you honestly think I'd attempt anything untoward with you lot in the room? I simply require a place to sit."

"You make sure you stay in your own sector, pirate," the prince cautioned. Swan simply rolled her eyes.

Hook had a comeback at the ready but the weary look on Swan's face kept him quiet. The woman had just fought her way back from certain death; certainly he could let her father's warning go without argument this time.

Nothing more was said as the four of them waited for the Queen and the imp. Hook noticed that just like the aftermath of her near drowning, Swan's parents couldn't seem to stop touching her. Her mother, who'd sat down on the other side of bed next to her, lightly held her hand while her father had his own hand over her blanketed knee. It didn't appear that any of them were consciously aware of the touches. Swan, at least, would have been shrugging out of their grip otherwise. Either that, or she needed the contact just as much as they did.

A couple minutes later, the peaceful silence of the room was shattered. "I see you found your way out of the darkness, Miss Swan," the imp said as he stepped into the cabin, followed by the Queen.

The words caused her to flinch as she squinted at him. "How did you know?" And then, it seemed to hit her whom she was asking that question. "Never mind. Of course you knew."

"Knew what?" Snow asked.

"That I found my way out of the darkness. Literally."

Well, that was a perfect opening if ever there was one. Before Hook could ask Swan how much she remembered, the prince did it for him.

"Not much," she shrugged. "I do remember getting dragged underwater. Something grabbed my ankle and wouldn't let me go. I kept trying to kick it with my other leg but I couldn't reach it and it wouldn't let me up for air. I remember panicking when I realized I couldn't hold my breath anymore … and then the next thing I remember is waking up on the beach. I can sort of recall walking back to the ship but that's when it all gets a little fuzzy. After that, I remember waking up in the darkness and trying to find my way out. There were voices there, your voices, but they were saying the most terrible things to me." Her memories thus revealed, she looked to Rumpelstiltskin for an explanation.

"What grabbed you was a water wraith," the imp informed her. "A spirit of the sea, claiming others just as it was once claimed. Generally a wraith will be content to simply take a life but when it finds someone with something else it wants – someone who can offer it much more than a life – it will attempt to take that as well."

"What did it want from me?"

Rumpelstiltskin arched a brow at her as if he couldn't believe she could be so clueless. "It wanted your magic, dearie."

Hook watched Swan as Rumpelstiltskin told her about the spell the wraith had put her under, what it did and how it worked. Her expression morphed from slightly confused to utterly horrified. "That's so cruel," she murmured after he'd finished. "The things the voices said to me … it was like my worst nightmares were coming true."

"I'm sure it was," the imp replied, his voice abnormally – for him – sympathetic. "That was, after all, the goal of the spell: to keep you mired in self-doubt."

She glanced at her parents, who'd tightened their grip on her as she'd spoken. No one dared ask what kinds of things the voices had said to her. Hook didn't want to hear it, and something told him that her parents wouldn't be able to bear hearing it.

After a moment, Swan suddenly seemed to understand that while they'd all been dealing with her crisis, their original mission had stalled. "We've got to go," she said, throwing the blanket off her legs and starting to stand. "Henry's still out there somewhere, and we–"

She stopped short as she sank back down on the edge of the bed hard. Her parents reacted in an instant, each grabbing onto one of her arms to steady her. She brought a hand to her forehead and groaned. "You're clearly not going anywhere," the Queen informed her, a stern edge to her voice. "You need to regain your strength before you venture out again."

"But Henry–"

"You'll be of no use to him or any of us if you get yourself injured again or worse because you're tired," the Queen reasoned. "An attack on your magic saps your energy. The only thing that will restore your energy reserve is rest."

"She's right, love," Hook spoke up quietly. "Neverland's terrain is practically impossible to navigate when you're rested. It's even more so if you're unwell."

"I was just asleep for how many hours?" she argued. "I'm fine."

"That wasn't sleep, Emma," Snow calmly informed her daughter. "It was a spell, and it was nowhere near restful or refreshing. It was a fight for your life. I agree with Hook and Regina; you need to rest before you go anywhere."

Swan glanced from her mother to her father, who gave her a little nod. Though clearly unhappy about it, she eventually nodded at her parents in acquiescence.

In an effort to make Swan feel more comfortable and less like she was the one holding everyone back, Hook said, "Since it's late, I suggest we all rest here and resume the search at first light. What I said to Swan applies to us all. We need to be rested and alert to traverse this land." He looked to Swan and her family. "As I imagine you're not up to moving, you three are more than welcome to stay here for the night. One night in the crew's quarters won't harm me."

Swan and her father appeared surprised. It was the princess who seemed to understand the complicated emotions behind his offer: the immense relief that Swan was all right and the desire to ensure she was comfortable enough to get the rest she desperately needed. "Thank you, Captain," she said, giving him a grateful smile.

He smiled back. Then he stood up from his perch on the bed, which signaled the Queen and Rumpelstiltskin that it was time to head to their quarters for the night. The other two left the room quickly with mumbled good nights but it took Hook a little longer to leave. He once again smiled at Swan, whom he didn't think would ever understand how amazingly strong she truly was. "I'm glad you found your way out of the darkness, love."

"Thanks," she replied, her voice quiet and weary. "I am, too."

The effects of her fight were already catching up with her, if her drooping eyelids and long blinks were any indication. As he exited the cabin, her parents were in the midst of helping her back into bed.

He closed the cabin door behind himself to give the family some privacy. Only then did he realize that the Queen hadn't gone to her quarters as he'd assumed. She was standing in the corridor with her arms crossed over her chest, and she arched a single eyebrow at him when he caught her eye. "I'd tread carefully if I were you, Captain," she said dryly. "It's not often that the pirate gets the princess."

She turned on her heel and stalked down the dark corridor and into her own cabin without another word. Hook stared after her for a long moment, considering what she'd said. In the end, he decided it didn't matter. Perhaps he would get the princess or perhaps he wouldn't. No matter the outcome, it was certainly going to be fun to try.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** And we've come to the end. Thank you all so much for following me along on this story. I know it's been quite different from my usual family fluff, and I very much appreciate y'all sticking with it and me. It was also nice to see some new names come up in the reviews! Thank you all for your lovely reviews and follows and favorites. Once again, y'all have been the best readers a girl could ask for. :)

* * *

After Hook let himself out of the room and closed the door, Snow concentrated on getting her exhausted daughter situated under the covers. "I can do this myself, you know," Emma mumbled wearily as Snow pulled the blanket up over her legs.

"I'm well aware," she replied, hiding a grin. She looked up at her husband and bit back another smile at the amusement dancing in his eyes. "You're still the one letting me tuck you in."

"Shush."

Snow swallowed another grin. Perhaps teasing her daughter while she was half-asleep was a little mean, but she was so thrilled Emma had come back to her that she couldn't help it. Charming winked at her, causing her to stifle a giggle.

She waited until Emma lay down on her side to draw the covers up around her shoulders. "Go to sleep, sweetheart," she murmured as she folded down the edge of the blanket.

Emma's nose wrinkled as she forced her eyes open. "Ugh, pet names?"

"We almost lost you twice today," Charming reminded her, his voice a miraculous combination of pained and gently teasing. "I think we're allowed a couple of pet names."

She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed again. "I guess, but just for today."

"Yes, of course," Charming assured her while winking at Snow.

A comfortable silence settled over the cabin. Snow had begun almost absentmindedly running a gentle finger along Emma's cheek in an effort to soothe her to sleep. Just as her amazingly stubborn daughter was starting to drift off, she pried her eyes open and sat up. Snow rested her hands on Emma's shoulders, trying to get her to lie back down. "Emma, you need to sleep."

"Not yet," she argued, shrugging out of Snow's grip. She met her mother's eyes with the most plaintive expression that Snow had ever seen on her face. "Can we just sit for a minute? Please? I just … need to sit for a minute."

Out of the corner of her eye, Snow saw Charming getting ready to argue the point. She shook her head at him to keep him quiet. This wasn't an Emma who was trying to be contrary; this was an Emma who wanted comfort but didn't know how to ask for it.

What on earth had her baby experienced while under that spell? Emma had handle plenty of difficult and awful circumstances and had taken it all on the chin. Nothing had ever affected her like this. Whatever the dream voices had said to her, whatever she'd heard, it had shaken her to the core. "Of course we can sit for a minute," she softly replied as she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her daughter's eyes.

Emma gave her a tiny, grateful smile before swiping a hand over her face to wake herself up a little bit. From the brief but unsure glances Emma kept throwing her way, Snow gathered that she wanted desperately to reach out for comfort but was unsure how to do so.

It was time to take matters into her own hands, then. She sat down on the bed side by side with her daughter and slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Emma tensed for the briefest of moments before relaxing into her mother's grip.

Snow's heart warmed at the feeling of her daughter accepting her comfort. Her heart warmed even further when Emma reached a hand out to her father. Charming had to swallow hard as he sat down on the bed facing her, grasped her hand in his, and squeezed.

Husband and wife met each other's eyes over their daughter's head. They shared a smile born of a complicated string of emotions: pain, relief, sympathy, comfort, longing, and warmth. At the back of both their minds was the notion that had one single thing gone differently this afternoon, they might not have been able to sit together the way they were now. At the forefront, however, was intense relief that everything had worked out for the best.

For a little while, everyone simply decompressed. Then, Snow gave Emma's shoulders a light squeeze and murmured, "I thought I told you not to scare me like that again."

"I'm sorry," Emma whispered. She sounded so small and so _young _that Snow couldn't stop herself from resting her head against her baby girl's. The emotion must have been getting to be too much for Emma, though, because after a beat, she pulled away slightly and added, "Although, if you think about it, it's all part of the same thing. If the wraith hadn't tried to drown me, I wouldn't have been put under the spell."

"She has a reasonable point, Snow," Charming teased with a wink at he daughter. She smiled at him, grateful for the backup.

"All right, I guess I can forgive it this time," Snow relented, heaving a mock put-upon sigh. "But any more incidents like that over the course of this mission, young lady, and you'll be grounded for the duration."

Emma snickered in amusement, and Snow let out a soft breath of relief. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether or not Emma would take a joke the way it was intended. "Believe me," Emma insisted, "I've had enough near-death experiences today to last a lifetime."

"Good," Snow replied softly.

Again, they lapsed into silence, content to simply sit with each other. Emma's muscles began to relax, and Snow thought she might finally be falling asleep … real, restful sleep. Her hopes were shattered when Emma fidgeted in her grip and asked, "What did it look like to you? When I found my way out of the darkness."

Snow met Charming's eyes in confusion. Either she was simply trying to keep herself awake by talking or she was actually curious, but what on earth made her ask that question? "What do you mean?" Charming asked.

"In my … I guess it was a dream? Anyway, it was completely dark. And then all of a sudden there was this tiny beam of white light that grew bigger and brighter. I ran toward it but it eventually got so bright I had to close my eyes. When I opened them again, I saw you. I was just wondering if you guys saw anything weird happen or if I just … woke up." She shrugged in an almost embarrassed way, as if asking the question aloud had made her realize how ridiculous it sounded.

Once again, husband and wife exchanged a glance. Charming was silently questioning whether or not to tell Emma the truth. The truth would probably make her extremely uncomfortable, but Snow believed she had a right to know. She nodded at her husband while also making sure he understood that she would tell Emma.

"Right before you woke up," Snow said gently, "there was a quick burst of white light that seemed to come from you."

"A burst of white light," Emma repeated in a soft voice. "Like in the Enchanted Forest?"

"Yes."

Emma pursed her lips as if she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. Snow gave her a comforting smile as she cupped her daughter's cheek with her free hand. "Thank you for finding your way back to us, Emma. I don't know how I would have survived without you."

The tears began to well in Emma's eyes, so Charming did his fatherly duty and swooped in to stop the rising emotion. Somewhat. "What I said to you still stands, you know. I'll teach you how to ride a horse and wield a sword, if you'd like."

Emma smiled almost shyly at her father. "Well, the horse thing might have to wait a little while, but I wouldn't mind a few pointers on the sword."

Charming smiled back at her. "It would be my honor."

Silence again settled over the cabin. This time when Emma began dozing off, she didn't fight it. Instead, she relaxed further into her mother's grip and rested her head on Snow's shoulder. Snow waited a few minutes before guiding her back to the pillows; she wanted her baby to be asleep enough that the movement wouldn't wake her. Only when Emma's head began nodding off her shoulder did she attempt moving her.

Snow took her time tucking Emma in, savoring an activity that she should have been able to do countless times. When she was finished, she lightly pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Good night, sweetie," she whispered.

She could have sworn that Emma briefly smiled in her sleep. Charming stood up from the bed, gave his daughter a good night kiss as well, and reclaimed his seat in the desk chair. When Snow arched a single eyebrow at him, he shrugged. "I'm not leaving her tonight, either."

"I could scoot over," Snow offered.

"There's not enough room in that bed for all three of us. Plus, can you imagine the fit she'll pitch if she wakes to find us both in there with her? I've certainly slept in less comfortable places than this chair. I'll be fine for the night."

Snow gave her husband a touched smile. "You're a wonderful father."

"I learned how to be a wonderful parent from my wonderful wife," he smiled. "And we have the most wonderful daughter."

"That we do, my dear Charming," Snow murmured, glancing down at their daughter. Their wonderful daughter, who had somehow found the strength to fight against certain death – twice in one day – and win. Their wonderful daughter, who had somehow seen through the lies and the torment and had believed in the love of her family. Their wonderful daughter, who was going to lead their little rescue mission to victory.

Snow knew that now. This mission would succeed. They'd all managed to set aside their differences in order to help Emma. She and Charming had had faith that their love for their daughter was strong enough to save her. Emma had learned to trust in her family and in her family's love for her.

They'd all learned their lessons. They'd all passed the test.

And now that the crisis was over, Snow couldn't help giving her husband a little startle. "Oh, Charming," she teased as she climbed into bed beside Emma.

"Yes?"

"I hope you're aware that Hook didn't give us use of his cabin because he secretly has a heart of gold. He did so because he likes our daughter."

"What's not to like?" It was a combination of turning Snow's words over in his head a second time and the eyebrow she raised at him that made him fully understand. Hook didn't like Emma, as in he found her presence enjoyable; he liked her, as in he carried a torch for her. "I'll kill him."

Snow chuckled. "You will do no such thing. For one thing, I don't think she's quite realized it yet. For another thing, when she does, she's an adult and can handle things on her own."

Charming frowned at her. "Can I still glare at him and silently threaten him within an inch of his life?"

"If you must," she replied with a teasing sigh. She lay down and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Good night, Charming."

"Wait, hold on. You're going to drop a bombshell like _that_ on me and then just go to sleep?!"

"Indeed I am. Good night!" She closed her eyes and turned her face into the pillow to muffle her giggle when she heard him heave a frustrated sigh.

* * *

After tossing and turning for far too long, Regina threw the covers off her legs in disgust. Why was sleep was eluding her? She'd wandered through the Neverland jungle for hours over the course of the day, and that wasn't even mentioning the tension over Emma's condition and the constant concern for Henry. She was utterly exhausted.

Too antsy to remain in bed, she grabbed a lantern and tiptoed out of the cabin. From the sound of it, the entire ship was asleep. The only noise she could hear was the creaking of the wood as the ship gently rocked in the surf. Perhaps the combination of the rocking and the air on deck would calm her nerves.

She headed down the corridor but paused outside the captain's cabin. A peek in on Emma wouldn't hurt, she supposed.

Not that she was concerned or anything of the sort. It was as she'd said earlier: Henry would never forgive her if something happened to Emma. A simple peek, just to make sure the maddening woman was still breathing, wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea.

Regina opened the cabin door slowly, not wanting to startle the room's occupants in the off chance that any of them were awake. She needn't have worried. Emma and her mother were cuddled up on their sides, facing each other, while David had slumped forward in the chair at his daughter's bedside and pillowed his head in his arms on the mattress.

The scene would have been rather adorable, were it not so sickening.

She stepped into the room and approached the bed. She could see Emma's shoulder rising and falling with her deep, even breaths. Her sleep now was different than her sleep from before. The amount of relief that flooded her at the realization made her blink in surprise.

Still, she wouldn't be sure until she could sense her, magic to magic. Emma's position facing away from her would make the reach quite awkward but it could be done.

Just was Regina stretched out her hand to rest on Emma's forehead, the savior turned onto her back with a soft sigh. She also came within inches of kicking her father, but that was neither here nor there.

She waited a moment to let Emma settle back into sleep before shutting her eyes and lightly resting her hand on the savior's forehead. The wait must not have been long enough, though, because a groggy voice disrupted her concentration. "Regina? What're you doing?"

She opened her eyes and looked down to find Emma blinking up at her, utterly confused. When Emma tried to squirm out from under her hand, she hissed, "Be still. I'm simply making sure that magic of yours is doing what it should."

Emma could not have looked more distrustful if she'd tried. Still, she allowed Regina to do what she wanted. This time, the strength of Emma's magic was almost overwhelming. Such raw power, and such a shame that the woman had no idea how to use it. The job done, Regina opened her eyes, removed her hand, and nodded at Emma. "Much better."

"I'm not even going to ask what the hell that was all about," Emma muttered as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. In the soft light of the lantern, she glanced at her soundly sleeping parents before turning a questioning look on Regina. "Can I ask you something?"

"I'm assuming there's a question beyond the one you just asked."

Emma gave a slight roll of her eyes. "They told me that right before I woke up, there was this burst of white light and it seemed to come from me. And that's how I got out of the darkness; I ran toward a white light. So does that mean … did I use magic to heal myself?"

Regina's eyes widened. So it wasn't solely strength of will that had broken the spell on Emma. Somehow she'd broken it herself, with her own magic. The magic that had been under attack to begin with. She was going to be quite the powerful adversary once she finally learned how to harness the power inside her. "Without having witnessed it, I can't be sure," she told her, which was the truth. "It's certainly more than possible."

The frown on Emma's face indicated that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea. A somewhat awkward silence settled between them. Just as Regina was about to bid the savior good night, Emma said, "You and Gold should be careful. You both have magic."

"Thank you for your concern, but I imagine that as long as we both stay away from water wraiths, we'll make it through this unscathed."

"The wraith didn't want my magic." Regina was about to insist that Rumpelstiltskin knew a thing or two about magical creatures, but the sudden glint of wisdom in the savior's eyes kept her quiet. "The island wanted my magic. The wraith was just the means to get it."

"This island has plenty of magic," Regina huffed. "Why would it want yours?"

"Where do you think the island's magic came from?" Emma asked softly. "This island's magic was stolen, little by little. Today, it tried to steal mine. I bet you anything that it'll try to steal yours and Gold's."

Regina's breath caught in her throat. That was certainly a sobering thought.

The two of them let the silence linger, and it wasn't long before Emma's eyelids began to grow heavy again. Regina watched her struggle for a moment, amazed at how very much she looked like Henry when he was a toddler and fighting a nap.

"You need to go back to sleep," she said quietly. After realizing how normal and almost motherly she'd sounded, she felt the need to add, "I will not allow you to delay this mission any longer."

A smirk pulled at Emma's lips as she snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes, too tired to offer even the most simple of retorts. As Emma settled, Snow reached out for Emma's hand in her sleep. Ordinarily, the action would have disgusted Regina but something about it tonight, in the aftermath of Snow almost losing her daughter, seemed … sweet. Honestly, Regina's own reaction to the gesture was more disgusting than the gesture itself. "They do love you, Ms. Swan," she murmured under her breath.

"I know," Emma whispered back, forcing her eyes open. "That's how I found my way back to them."

This conversation had officially become far too saccharine for Regina's tastes. She turned on her heel and headed for the door, intending to go out on deck where things actually made sense. Emma's soft voice calling her name stopped her. "What is it?" she sighed, turning to face a woman she couldn't stand yet was surprisingly glad hadn't died.

"That's how we're going to find Henry, you know. Because we love him."

It was the closest thing to an olive branch that Emma would probably ever offer, and her words stirred something deep within Regina that she hadn't felt in a long time. Tonight she'd seen what love could do, that love could conquer almost certain death.

Perhaps love wasn't weakness after all. And if it wasn't, who was to say that love couldn't lead them to their son? "Go back to sleep," she grumbled, unwilling to admit out loud that Emma's words had given her even the slightest bit of hope.

This time Emma blissfully did as she was told, and Regina tiptoed out of the room. Those damn Charmings, with their maddening faith and trust and hope and love. Still, if faith and trust and hope and love had been the secret to saving Emma, perhaps it could save Henry as well.

That was the test, she realized with wide eyes. They'd all needed to find their faith, and they'd passed with flying colors.


End file.
